


The Journey

by 1100



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1815502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1100/pseuds/1100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an attempt to recruit a mutant goes horribly wrong, Erik and Charles must protect one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mutant

Charles found himself seated within his car, Erik at the wheel.

"Where to?" the German asked.

"There's a mutant fifty miles west, living in the forest," Charles told the older man, trying to stretch his telepathy without cerebro to locate the mutant more precisely as Erik commented on the oddity of the name. But he couldn't reach that far, and his mind was filled with the pain of attempting such contact.

"Charles?" Erik whispered with concern.

"I'm fine," Charles told him.

Erik took his eyes from the wheel long enough to ascertain his friend's condition.Charles nodded reassuringly.

"Rest, my friend," Erik told the telepath.

Charles obeyed, closing his eyes and letting his mind drift off.

"Charles?"

Erik's voice woke the telepath.

"Are we there?"

"Yes, my friend. We are there."

Charles opened the car door, rubbing his neck with the other hand to relieve the stiffness.

Charles could feel the presence of the mutant, grudging thoughts penetrating his mind.

Erik walked towards and gently knocked upon the door.

"Go away," came a gruff voice. "I don't want you here."

"Charles?" Erik whispered.

"His name is Aiden," Charles said, reading the mutant's mind. "His mutation..." Charles frowned, attempting to delve deper into Aiden's mind. He shook his head. "I don't know. I can't read his mind, now."

"How can he do that?" A puzzled look had crossed Erik's face.

"I don't know. His mutation? Can you open the door?"

Erik grinned, pulling the lock away in a flurry of wood. He then stepped forward, the door swinging open easily before his touch and revealing the mutant behind it.

Aiden was tall, six foot five, towering over Erik. His bright eyes stared down at Erik. "What are you doing?" he growled, his eyes showing ovbious disgust at the German.

"We are awareof your unique abilities," Charles spoke up from behind Erik, "and wish to offer you a haven from any harms humans cause."

"Leave."

Charles stumbled back at the violence that entered his mind, yet he was still unable to tell more than the man's name and emotions.

Aiden's eyes turned towards him. "What is wrong?"

"He is unwell," Erik told the mutant.

"No," Charles contradicted. "I was startled."

The questioning look on Aiden's face prompted Charles to continue. "You have your ability, I have mine. I can read your emotions."

"Get out." Aiden spat fire out of his mouth in front of the mutants, lighting the wooden floor. Flames sprang up before them, spreading over the span of the ground.

Charles backed up from the flames, the scorching heat reaching out to burn his skin lightly. Erik stumbled back as well, his hand flying up to protect his face.

Erik dived to the side as flame rushed by him, setting the frame of the door on fire. Charles rushed toward the exit, but his way was blocked by falling, flaming wood.

Erik, seperated from Charles by the growing fire, stood at the edge of the flames, looking despairingly at him. The wood above Charles creaked meanicingly.

Chales saw Erik's hand stretch out, and metal snaked over the floor to staunch the flames seperating them. After Erik crossed, the metal shot into the wall, creating a new exit out of that side of the building.

"Charles!" the telepath heard Erik call. In a flash, Erik was shoving him, pushing Charles away from where he had been before and out of the building.

And then, as if in slow motion, the roof caved in.

 


	2. The Rescue

"Erik!" Charles called as he stood and faced the building. "Erik!"

There came no answer from underneath the rubble. Charles reached out with his mind.

My friend, where are you?

The only answer was wave upon wave of pain coming from the German's mind.

That meant he was alive.

Charles' eyes hunted for Aiden. The other mutant was nowhere to be found. Storing that knowledge within his mind, Charles concentrated on pinpointing Erik.

Charles approached where he had exited from, pulling rubbish away from the pile. If Erik was trapped beneath this, he wouldn't survive for much longer before suffocating. Already Charles could feel Erik's pain lessening as the man slipped farther from life.

Charles dug furiously, he dug until his fingers bled and sweat poured down his face. "Erik!" he yelled once more in dispair as he felt the man's hold on life weaken even further. With a final pull, Charles tore away a cluster of debris to reveal Erik's face.

Resolutely, Charles pulled at the surrounding debris in an attempt to free Erik's arms. Getting them free, he hooked onto them and pulled with all his stregnth. He tried desperately to pull Erik's legs out from under the rubble, straining every muscle in his body. His lungs cried out for air as he strained.

Slowly, Erik slid out from beneath the pile, and Charles hefted the man into his arms. Blood trickled down the side of Erik's face from a gash across his forehead, and the man's leg was cut deeply.

Charles carried him away from the wreckage of the house and set him down upon the ground, cradleing his friend in his arms.

"Oh, Erik," he whispered as tears streamed down his face. "You will make it through this. I promise you, Erik, you will make it through this."

Charles was too weak to lift Erik up and carry the mutant to the car, so he sat beside the unconscious German. Charles watched over his friend into the night until his eyes grew tired and he couldn't keep himself awake any longer.

 


	3. The Awakening

The first thing Charles noticed upon waking was that the car was gone.

Charles cursed under his breath. The obvious solution was that Aiden had been nearby and ran off with the car while he had been sleeping.

Charles looked around, hoping he was wrong and that he was simply wrong on the placement of the car. But he wasn't. The car wasn't in sight. He and Erik would have to make it home by themselves.

The second thing he noticed was the blood.

Erik's forehead was covered in congealed blood, his leg still actively seeped with the sticky substance. A pool of blood had gathered below him from an unseen wound on his back, and his hair was matted with it.

"Oh, Erik," Charles sobbed. "What have you done this time?"

Charles ripped off his shirt sleeve, tying it around Erik's leg; he winced at the pain he could sense in his friend. Charles then proceeded to exaimne the head wounds.

Erik had, from what Charles could tell, a concussion.

"It's not too bad," Charles said to comfort himself. "Erik is strong; he will live."

Charles looked down at the German's face, a face that had contradicted him many times. Yet here they were, still friends, ever since Charles had saved Erik's life. And now, Charles couldn't bear to lose Erik.

 

A deep pain, confusion, dominated Erik's thoughts. No shapes were constant, moving, changing. At least, no shapes were constant at first. Slowly, he was able to see a silhouette of someone above him, and the lines began to sharpen into a face.

"Charles," he breathed.

A strong hand grasped his. "I am here, my friend."

"What happened?" Erik managed to get out. His throat, dry, was barely able to comply.

"Don't worry about it," Charles told him. "Are you well enough to walk?"

Erik tried to stand, but searing pain shot up his leg. He fell back to the earth, only to wince as his back wound was aggrivated. His eyes closed.

"Lie still," Charles told him, and Erik felt his friend's arms encircle him, lifting him off the ground.

Erik groaned as Charles' hands touched his back.

"I'm sorry, Erik," Charles told him, "but the car was stolen. We have to walk home ourselves."

"We're fifty miles away, Chalres," Erik mumbled, fighting unconsciousness.

"I'll take care of you. Just rest."

Erik complied, releaved to escape from his pain.


	4. The First of Many

Charles took another step forward, stretching out his mind while he walked in an attempt to contact others.

Raven? Hank?

But he wasn't able to. They were too far away.

He would have to get Erik home by himself. The man was far too weak to walk.

Charles got onto the dirt road, looking in despair at the legnthy stretch before him. He took a step forward. A step for him and for Erik. A step toward home.

He felt Erik's breath as the man's head lolled towards him. "Hold on Erik, I'll get you home. You can trust me."

He would have sworn he saw the German smile slightly.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Erik saw the submarine detaching from the underbelly of the ship, carrying Shaw away from him. He reached out with all his abilities, straining, allowing himself to be dragged through the water with it. He tried to raise it, barely able to keep the oxygen between his lips in the freezing water. Suddenly, there was a voice in his head, and strong hands grasped his arms. He was being lifted upward, up and away from the sub. His head broke the surface of the water; he could see his breath in the air.

"Erik." Someone was talking to him: Charles. He felt his friend's hands upon his shoulders, shaking him from the memory of his failure. A splitting pain came back to Erik.

"Where am I?" he asked, the previous night still fuzzy.

"I believe it was day when you last awoke," Charles told him.

"I thought you agreed not to read my mind," Erik mumbled, his words slurred.

 _Do not speak,_ he heard Charles in his head. _Your throat is dry; I have found no water. Can you walk?_

 _With support,_ Erik thought, knowing that Charles would take it as ascent to read his mind when he hadn't brought up the issue with communication. Sure enough, Charles gently placed his feet on the ground, letting Erik lean on him. Erik favored his left leg, and with Charles' aid was able to walk.

"I had to leave the road," Charles told him; obviously his throat was not yet as dry as Erik's. "It was bumpy, too many ups and downs. Like this trip."

_I don't recall any ups._

Charles smiled at that. Erik was happy his friend was smiling; he felt much worse than he was letting on, and was suppressing the pain himself. Charles probably had no idea how much pain he was actually in. _It is better this way,_ Erik thought while Charles looked the other direction. _He does not feel my pain. He will not know._

For, in truth, Erik thought it unlikely he would survive his little venture. Fifty miles was a long way to walk even when uninjured, and with him to carry, Charles could have only gotten three miles the previous night. Erik just didn't want Charles to know that. He did not want to see his friend in pain.

_He does not need to know._


	6. The Secret

Erik would talk a little now, for they had found water, but Charles got the impression he was doing it just so Charles wouldn't read his mind to communicate. He could feel the pain each time the German spoke, and wished he would stop. Charles was tempted to read his mind anyway. What could Erik have to hide?

But he had agreed not to read his friend's mind. No matter what secret Erik concealed, no matter how dark, it was none of Charles' buisness. Erik would tell him when he wanted to. Charles would just have to be patient with the man.

They had been hiking for a week in the dense forest, but Charles had long since lost all sense of direction. His shirt was torn, with cuts underneath from where thorns had scratched his pale skin. Blood had congealed in them long ago, it seemed.

Charles noticed a developing pattern as he and Erik delved deeper into the woods. They would start hiking in the early morning air, but Erik could only go for an hour before he found it necessary to rest. Charles knew he could make it to civilization quickly without the German, and he could call someone to help the man. But he couldn't leave. Erik was the closest thing he had to a family.

They rested two hours for every hour they walked. Charles had found a creek, and they followed it for when they were in need of drink. Erik would lean back against a tree and sleep, his face drawn back with pain and his eyes sunken. It was at moments like this, when the man's defenses were down, that Charles was tempted to delve into his mind, find what was causing the man the turmoil he sensed. But he never did. Never did it occur to Charles why Erik concealed it from him.

 


	7. The Decision

Erik was growing tired. Everyday, he walked for as long as he could, and then rested for twice as long. He no longer had any idea which direction they traveled in, nor how long they had ben traveling. The days blended together. His injuries grew worse.

He watched as Charles hike along beside him, not tiring near as quickly, not needing near as much rest, growing thinner. Charles could make it back if he was by himself, so Erik had his work cut out for him.

He had to leave Charles.

Erik knew he wouldn't survive without the telepath; he was still too weak and he wouldn't be able to follow the river lest Charles find him again.

"Charles," Erik said.

"Hm?" The telepath barely acknowledged Erik, still hiking forward, but Erik knew he was still listening.

"You look tired, my friend, and it is sundown. You should rest, sleep."

Charles turned around. "Erik, you look exhausted!"

"It is nothing," Erik said, waving off Charles. "I'm sure you're more tired."

"Now that you mention it..." Charles sat heavily down on the ground, leaning his head back. Within minutes, Erik was sure he was asleep.

"Goodbye, my friend," he whispered with one last, regretful look at Charles. He couldn't stop the tears from running down his face.

 


	8. The Start

Erik pushed aside yet another branch as he delved deeper into the forest and away from Charles. He wanted to stop, he needed to stop.

But he couldn't.

He would never forgive himself if he allowed himself to stop, and Charles found him. The telepath needed to keep moving, striving toward home.

A place that Erik would never see again.

But Erik didn't mind. Not as long as Charles found his way back to the mansion. And Charles would. Erik knew Charles would.

Unfortunately, Charles might not accept his disappearence, and attempt to search for him. And that's why Erik would have to run. Run far and long, anywhere that led away from Charles. Anywhere that led away from his one true friend.

Erik had to get out of the range of his telepathy. If he got out of range, Charles would most likely assume he was dead and, while he hated to cause Charles pain, that would mean Charles wouldn't search for him.

And that was good. Charles would live.

Erik repeated that thought to himself over and over as he plunged into the dark trees. Charles will live, Charles will...

Erik stumbled as something caught him in the head. He couldn't see anything in the darkness, his assailant was at a serious advantage. Charles would live, he thought, striking blindly at his unseen opponent.

The man struck back, felling Erik. Erik didn't fight to keep his eyes open, he let them close willingly.

Charles would live.

 


	9. The Discovery

Charles woke slowly. His head ached, searing with pain. He pulled himself up.

"Erik?" he called, immediately noticing the man's abscence. "Erik?" Worry tainted his voice, and he stretched out his mind, searching for his friend. But he didn't find Erik. It was like a huge piece of him was just...gone. Snatched out of thin air.

But...

Erik couldn't have gotten that far in that limited an amount of time. The man was injured and, while Charles gave him credit for being stubborn, he couldn't have possibly made it that far.

Which meant Erik was dead.

Charles felt tears streaming down his face. Why had Erik left?

"You fool," Charles muttered, kicking a tree. He didn't know who he was calling a fool: himself or Erik. He shouldn't have let himself sleep before Erik, and he should have read Erik's mind. But he hadn't. It was his fault Erik was dead.

In one last attempt, hoping Erik was simply out of his range, Charles stretchd his mind. But he couldn't find the German. Charles sat down and wept, wishing his friend was back at his side. Charles would gladly give his life to bring back Erik, to get just one last glimpse of the German.

It was then Charles decided; he would find Erik's body. The least he could do was bring it back for a proper burial. The thought of a funeral for his friend made fresh, hot tears stream down his face. Erik was gone for good.

 


	10. The Discovery (part 2)

Erik woke in the dark. He wasn't dead.

That meant Charles could find him.

Erik swallowed, an action that hurt with his dry throat. Charles needed to leave. If he was within the telepath's radius, Charles would come looking for him. But the man...

Had the man taken him somewhere else? Somewhere outside Charles' radius?

Erik hoped desperately that had happened, that Charles was already on his way to the mannor. But Erik couldn't shake the feeling that Charles was searching for him. He dismissed it. The very thought was fanciful. Charles should have recognized the best thing to do was head back; deliver the news of Erik's death to everyone who asked.

But the englishman was stubborn.

Erik, realizing he couldn't do much about Charles right now, focused on what he could see. That wasn't much.

He could see silhouettes; the outlines of tables and chairs littered the room in no particular order that he could see. His eyes swept across the room, adjusting to see...

...the shadow of a person, standing right at the edge of his vision.

The person spoke. "Hallo, Erik. Hast du mich vermisst?"  
  
 _Hello, Erik. Did you miss me?_

Erik was confused, but switched to his native tongue. "Wer sind Sie?" _Who are you?_  
  
"Erinnerst du dich nicht? Ich bin deine Mutter." _Do you not remember? I am your mother._

 


	11. The Fight

"No!"Erik cried. "You're not my mother!"

"You're right," the person said. The voice had changed to a voice more familiar. "I'm Mystique."

Erik shook his head. Mystique would never do this.

"You're right," said the person, and once again, the voice changed. "It's me. Charles."

Erik felt a blow. Not physical, emotional. This person knew his weakness. His care for Charles. "Charles would never trick me!" he yelled, lashing out at whoever it was. "He would never lie to me!"

"Like you lied to him?" the man asked.

“I didn’t lie!” Erik yelled through gritted teeth. “I would never lie to Charles!”

Erik struck the man hard. A metallic clang echoed throughout the room. Erik cried out as soon as he had processed the pain. The man was a robot.

“Shocked?” the machine asked.

Erik was dumfounded. “How..?”

A door slid open at the opposite side of the room as the lights came on. In walked a man with broad shoulders and a confident stride. “We take your thoughts, your memories, and the robot changes its voice to match the tones in your memory. If we want an image, we can reconstruct images using projectors that look quite natural.”

“But…why?”

“Do you know where you are, son?” the big man asked.

Erik shook his head.

“And you never will.” The lights went back out, and Erik was struck in the middle by the bigger man. He tried to strike back, but his hand found thin air. A thick leg swept him off his feet; the floor assisted the stranger by knocking the wind out of the German. Erik was already back up on his feet, but this time his assailant smashed Erik’s head against the wall. Erik felt blood trickling down his face, and he became dizzy. Erik’s eyes began to close again, but before he lost consciousness, he heard a voice. “I just needed to test my machine.” It sounded as if it had been Charles.


	12. The Contact

Charles kept hiking, on and on, away from the river. There were no other minds near him, though he kept his mind stretching in the hope of coming across someone.

He hadn’t contacted a single mind yet.

And then one was there.

It was on the very fringes of his mind, but it was there. And it was familiar.

 _Erik?_ Charles called. Surely he was delusional from lack of water. Erik was dead.

Yet a response came.

Charles smiled. Erik was still alive. A huge piece of him was back.

 _Where are you, Erik?_ Charles thought as he hiked forward.

 _I don’t know,_ the German admitted, _but there’s lots of metal._

And a tremble shook the ground.


	13. The End

The ground moved beneath Charles’ feet, lifting upward.

“Erik!” he yelled, hoping the German could hear him. Erik must not have known he was on top of the metal. “Erik!”

But there was no answer to his calls beside the roaring wind. The metal lurched and fell to the ground, taking Charles with it. He hit the ground hard, the impact crushing his ribs. He turned over on his back, letting a pained gasp escape.

And then, a sight for sore eyes, Erik emerged from the uprooted dust.

“Charles,” he hollered, rushing to his friend’s side. When he got there, he took the injured man in his arms. “Charles,” he said softer.

“W-what were you doing here?” Charles asked as blood dripped into his mouth; his nose was bleeding. His breath caught as pain shot through his ribs.

“I don’t know.”

“Hell of a secret you were keeping from me,” Charles said, looking at the massive hole.

“Hell of a time for you to get here.”

“Were there…others here?”

“I took care of them. They’re not dead, just wounded.”

“You have…learned…my friend.”

“Charles,” he heard Erik say. “Charles, stay with me.

But Charles didn’t need to stay awake. He was with Erik and now they would get home. Erik would keep him safe. “I’m still…mad at you,” Charles muttered as he drifted off.

When he woke again, they were back in the mansion.


End file.
